“I don’t want to die … I don’t want to be hurt and please don’t hit me.”

— John Lennon (my senior quote in my 1979 high school year book)

30 years ago tonight, I was sitting downstairs in my dorm, in a study carrel, writing a poli sci paper at the last possible moment (politics of Latin America; Professor Valenzuela), when I overheard two students walking by, talking about “some former Beatle or something” who had just been murdered in New York. In disbelief, I ran into the commons room next door, flipped on the TV and saw my hero, John Lennon. I cried. I remember that night like it was yesterday night.